


Lost the Battle, Won the War

by liebstes



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Human/Monster Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Protective Asterius, asterius is NOT a monster but i felt like the tag fits, asterius to theseus: why am i cursed to forever love someone unfit for my monstrous self......, no beta we die like men, theseus to asterius: i want to suck your dick so bad, theseus to zag: you take one look at asterius and i will fucking kill you do you understand me demon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:13:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27394789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liebstes/pseuds/liebstes
Summary: The short prince– Zagreus, had come into the arena with a special glint in his mismatching eyes that had him worried before Theseus could even open his mouth to taunt, “My, the wretched daemon has found his way to us once again, Asterius! Let us vanquish him to the lowest depths of hell!”Things did not go to plan.
Relationships: Asterius | The Minotaur/Theseus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 384





	Lost the Battle, Won the War

**Author's Note:**

> me opening hades for the first time and seeing asterius, already crying: are you... are you gay? 
> 
> hi! this is inspired by last night when i accidentally killed theseus before asterius in the fight, and once i killed asterius his last words were "thank... you..." because that is so tender and gay that i could not NOT write about it
> 
> also slight warning: i do not describe the battle in too much detail but there IS mention of blood and wounds.

Asterius was tired. 

The short prince– Zagreus, had come into the arena with a special glint in his mismatching eyes that had him worried before Theseus could even open his mouth to taunt, “My, the wretched daemon has found his way to us once again, Asterius! Let us vanquish him to the lowest depths of hell!” 

Things did not go to plan. 

They had fought the short one many times before, and as he adapted to the duo’s technique, they did the same. He had a habit of going after Asterius first, shooting blood crystal after blood crystal, until all that remained was Theseus and his plead for Olympian aid. 

Asterius accepted this strategy. It made sense, he thought. There were many more openings for the short one to attack Theseus without his large self in the way, charging after the prince in countless attempts. The cry of his name from Theseus’ lips as he fell was one he was well accustomed to. 

This time, however, the prince had changed strategy. Instead of chasing after Asterius with his red blade, he had summoned Death himself to cast a large purple field of damage, directly over Theseus. Asterius could only watch from the other side of the arena as his King fell to his knees with a pained grunt before standing back up with a growl. 

Such sight had brought the minotaur into a fury, as he felt a scream rip from his throat and his hooves beginning to charge. He managed to slam the prince into a wall and tear at him with his horns before he dashed away, dancing around the bull as if graced by Hermes. 

Despite such vigorous attempts to sway the prince’s attention from Theseus to himself, Asterius could only watch as Zagreus got swipe after swipe at the King until he fell to the floor with a pained groan and a quiet, “ _Why…?”._

Such an event was unprecedented. Never had Theseus fallen to another warrior in the arena, not once in the centuries they’d been placed there. He was a _Champion_ of Elysium, after all. One does not earn such a title by being slain easily. 

That left Asterius alone in the arena, which seemed deathly quiet without the taunting of his comrade, the cheers of the shades falling to the furthest corner of his mind. When Theseus fell he wanted to stop and stare at the sight, so shocked at the picture of Theseus’ face contorting in pain, a hand gripped to his abdomen with blood oozing out. Such pose should not be bared by Elysium’s champion. Such pose struck fear so deep into Asterius he felt as if he were back in the labyrinth. 

“Finally figured how to shut him up,” the short one said, panting as he skitted across the arena from Theseus’ body. “You can thank me, you know. He wouldn’t hear.” 

Asterius’ body filled with rage at such accusations that he would betray his King, his friend, his _partner,_ that his vision briefly turned red as he swung his axe in a great wave toward his enemy. 

He usually quite liked battling with the prince, he fought nobly and with great swiftness, but even he should not be granted to say such things. 

His mind filled with thoughts only to avenge the King, to teach the prince that though his ego was often boastful, the King deserved respect and nothing short of it. Yet, as the battle went on, he got sloppy. Got led into pillars while charging far too easily, missing Zagreus with his axe by a large margin, falling still when the frost of Demeter touched him. 

Asterius knew his mind was not clear, he was not thinking ahead or considering the prince’s attacks. Since he saw the ashen face of his partner his strategy turned from one of calculations to a primal lust for blood. 

The prince took advantage of this, slicing him in short quick bursts before dashing far away, mouth in a small smirk that told he knew exactly what he was doing. Asterius knew his time was short, knew the prince had far more stamina than his own, but would not fall easily. He would honor Theseus. 

After tearing at the prince’s side with his axe, he felt another blood crystal hurdling his way in the shape of a red spiral razor. He dodged it but was surrounded when the prince cast two more, caging him in. His vision grew black spots as they passed through him, barely managing to remain conscious. He swiped blindly with his weapon before feeling the Prince jab him once again. 

He fell. 

_Theseus,_ his mind reminded him. _You’re going back to Theseus._ Unlike his time in the mortal realm, he knew exactly what awaited him after this death, knew he would not be alone. As his chest heaved once, twice, thrice more, and he gazed at the prince to mutter, “thank… you…” before closing his eyes and feeling himself shatter into nothing. His last moment was the prince’s face directly in front of him, smile gone as he stared in shock. 

Asterius opened his eyes to their chamber under the arena, the cheering of the crowd only faintly piercing into the room. There, on one of two beds, sat Theseus, facing away. 

“King,” Asterius said, relieved to see his partner alive– well, as alive as possible. Instead of whatever joyful reply he would usually offer, Theseus instead flinched and tensed his muscles. Was he sore over their defeat? It was not the first time the short one had bested them, and Asterius could guarantee it would not be the last. After their fifth loss or so, Theseus stopped taking each battle so personally. 

“What troubles you?” he asks. He wishes to move forward to comfort his King but does not know if it would be welcomed. Theseus lets out a sigh before turning around. 

“I am sorry, dear friend, to have left you alone with that terrible fiend. I had not wished to fall before you, but it seems even my might could not survive his own,” Theseus said with melancholy, eyes remaining on the tiled floor instead of Asterius. 

He thought back to the utter chill that racked his body when Theseus fell. The surge in his blood as he wished for nothing more than to tear the prince limb from limb. Did Theseus experience even a fraction of that when he succumbed to Zagreus under his gaze? 

“Nonsense,” he says instead. “You fought valiantly until the end. Do not trouble yourself.” 

Theseus sighs again, running a hand through his disheveled hair that was still wet with sweat and blood. The power of Elysium may heal them after their deaths but does not seem capable of cleaning them sufficiently. Asterius considered it a major flaw. 

“I have not wished to, but I grew accustomed to seeing you fall in battle, dear Asterius. It would fill me with such a rage that the daemon would quiver fiercely at the mere sight of my passion. But now? To see your face the moment before I die, knowing there was no way to protect you? Why, I merely perished again!” Theseus explains, hands moving with gusto. 

Asterius thinks for a moment, not wanting to respond inappropriately. “Agreed, it was not a desirable outcome. But know that my untimely death is of no fault to you.” Not this death, anyways. 

Now, Asterius absolutely blames himself each time Theseus falls, but Theseus does not need to know that. To worry himself over such a creature was unbefitting of a King. 

“Oh, how I disagree, Asterius! We are bonded together, we fight as one– _live_ as one. To know I failed you in battle brought me such shame, friend. You have my word I shall fight with far more vigor at the next opportunity!” Theseus promises, standing to take Asterius’ shoulders. His arms have to stretch comically tall and wide to do so, but he grins nonetheless. 

“You did not fail me, my King. I am not your burden to bear,” Asterius argues, and gives a huff as Theseus’ hands tighten their grip. 

“Nonsense! There is not one shade here that I care for more than you, dear friend! And, my, how rude I’ve been! I never even considered to ask how the battle progressed without me, why, you must tell me the tale, Asterius!” 

He thinks back to the feeling of darkness and desperation as he was left alone in the arena. 

“It was… not satisfactory. He beat me quickly. I lost my sense of self,” Asterius admits, turning so Theseus’s hands are forced to drop from his shoulders. 

“Wh– Asterius! What did he do, dear friend, to beat you so easily? Dare he play tricks on you, I swear I shall–” Theseus said, but was interrupted with a loud snort from Asterius. 

“He did not do anything to me. He killed you. I was not prepared” 

Theseus falters at this, seemingly dumbfounded. “Not prepared?” he questions. 

“You have not fallen before me previous to this. I did… not enjoy it,” Asterius explains, feeling silly for admitting such feelings. Theseus, however, seems to relish it. 

“Oh, Asterius, you big, loving bull! How my heart soars knowing you felt such a way! I must admit, getting used to the sight of that witch killing you? My, it kept me up many nights thinking!” Theseus said, disregarding the fact that night does not exist here. 

Asterius is unsure what to do with his reply, uncomfortable with his King’s confession. “Do not trouble your thoughts over me,” he says simply. 

Theseus scoffs and hits Asterius gently with his hand. “You wish the impossible of me! I’d say it’s more likely for that wretched soul to join us in friendship than for me to cease thinking of you, Asterius!” 

He thinks briefly about the battles he has with the prince privately, outside of Theseus’ knowledge. How they are far more amicable than their fighting in the arena. He decides Theseus does not need to know such information. 

Instead, he focuses on the King’s blatant affection that he throws out so graciously. Asterius snorts; a tell-tale sign of feeling uncomfortable, but admits, “I think of you as well, my King. I fear... too much.” 

Theseus gazes at him with a bright smile that is undeserving to be seen so soon after a loss. He steps closer to Asterius, setting his hands on the minotaurs’ sides. 

“If I may be so brazen, Asterius,” he says as if he ever let anything stop him before, “I know our bond is one of friendship and brotherhood, and yet I can not stop myself from wanting for it to grow to… something more.” 

Asterius freezes. What else could it possibly grow to? He had everything he ever wished for with the King, stupid unrequited affections for him aside. 

He voices his confusion, “I am afraid I do not understand.” 

Theseus takes such confession as if it were a bottle of ambrosia; he licks his mouth and smiles wide, explaining, “Asterius, why, I wish for it to expand to a bond of love! Romance, pleasure, all the sorts.” 

Somehow… Aphrodite must have given the prince a new blessing to cause something such as this, Asterius reasons. Though the effects of battle wear off after their deaths, Aphrodite was still controlling Theseus…? 

He places a hand on Theseus’ skin to search for the flush that Aphrodite’s effects usually summon. He finds nothing but cool, scarred skin on Theseus’ chest, who seems to be interpreting his move differently. 

“Oh, you lovable fool! Of course, you may touch me, as long as I can do the same,” Theseus says, grinning foolishly. 

“No,” Asterius says, “I am looking for Aphrodites’ curse on you.” 

The smile slips off Theseus’ face. He instead starts laughing at such a volume the shades upstairs must surely hear. 

“Oh– Oh you! Asterius I did not know you to say such silly things,” Theseus says, “It has been a while since you made a jest. I quite enjoy it!” 

Asterius’ brain is moving as fast as Hermes himself surely, as he processes the King’s words and realizes the only fool here is himself. 

“You… care for me?” he asks simply in disbelief. Logically, he knew the King likes his presence, but… affection? Love? 

“Absolutely! The depths of my passion for you know no bounds! Why, I am positively bewildered that you had not noticed so! I am not quiet with my affections you know,” and Asterius did know, but like _this?_

“I… oh,” Asterius mutters and wraps himself around Theseus. He has to bend down to twine his arms around the others back, but the gasp he hears from his King as he stands on his toes to meet him is worth it. 

“My, my!” Theseus says, slightly muffled by the fur in his face, “Who knew you were so affectionate! Worry not, I shall not gossip this with the shades, my dear!” 

Theseus could gossip with whoever he wishes if it meant Asterius could hold him in his arms like this once more. To feel the beating of his heart, the slide of skin against his fur. He tells him as such. 

Theseus responds in kind with an excited yelp, pulling back just barely to hold Asterius’ head with his hands. “And to think it took that horrible monster slaying me to bring us together! It almost makes me want to thank him before I thrust my spear into his horrid flesh!”

“King, perhaps do not speak of his flesh right now,” Asterius mumbles, not wanting to lose this moment to one of his partner’s rants. 

“How right you are, when your flesh is laid out so beautifully for me here!” and before Asterius can protest to having his _flesh_ talked about, Theseus swoons forward to press their lips together.

**Author's Note:**

> WOOOOOW thank you for reading!! i am really loving this pair even if they are a little challenging to write... please let me know what you thought through kudos or comments!! i think its time for me to write thanzag next :]
> 
> ill put a link to my twitter [HERE](https://twitter.com/shortkingzag), feel free to follow or check out my linktree!! <3


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